INDIA 2011


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-- Los Angeles, Hollywood sign, from Griffith Park --



-- San Fransisco, from Twin Peaks --



Los Angeles
-- Richard Wagner: Der Ring des Nibelungen --


Thursday 03/17 -- Griffith Park, Los Angeles
Horse parking to top: 0:31:39
Down South Side, towards LA: 0:13:42
Back up to top: 0:17:54
Back to horse parking: 0:18:47
Time: 1:22:02
Mileage: 9.1 Miles

I've had the idea of writing letters in Hindi for my return, and true to that promise have been keeping a Hindi journal through the trip, taking pictures in order to show them on my return. I see the world with new eyes, often wondering which things could interest them, marveling anew at these odd things that we all take for granted, the airplane, seeing from over the clouds, our cities, people's clothing...
Today seeing the city of Los Angeles from this high vantage point I religiously take a series of pictures.


Sunday 03/21 -- Twin Peaks, San Francisco
From Page St. - Panhandle - Twin Peaks: 0:27:57
Back other side, lost, worked my way back: 1:04:08
Time: 1:32:05
Mileage: 10.2 Miles

Have arrived in the Bay Area on Friday, spend the weekend with the Family.
Going on a morning run and realizing that I'm close to Twin Peaks, decide to run there in order to, like in LA, get a good view of the city to show on my return. The otherwise horrible weather is miraculously clear, just in time for me to catch the famous view. As if on purpose, rain starts pouring as soon as I'm done with my pictures, displaying a splendid rainbow. In a semi-intoxicated state, amusingly taking this as some divine omen, I run like a madman towards the rainbow to capture its picture, shouting and laughing along the way (luckily only few people are around).
Drenched on the way back, I get fairly lost, have to ask my way around. Having even forgotten the exact street number, I stride back and forth on Page Street before finding the house.


Tuesday 03/22/11 -- Griffith Park, Los Angeles
Griffith Park, to bottom of Hollywood sign: 0:45:48
Back: 0:33:69
Time: 1:19:27
Mileage: 8.8 Miles

Exploratory, through some rough trails, eventually reach a road which by happenstance leads me near the Hollywood Sign (although later discover that access here is prohibited). Of course happy to get pictures of the sign to bring back to India (another small victory for my journal).
See coyote and deer On the way back down. For some reason keep imagining that I could take little Nazia running with me, the young girl easily distancing my older body while marveling at these new sights.


Thursday 03/24 -- Hollywood Sign, Los Angeles
Griffith Park, Horse Parking to the top: 0:32:29
Down other side towards observatory, trail along a chasm, hollywood campground: 0:28:47
Up to the top of Hollywood Hill (over and behind Hollywood sign): 0:39:10
Back down to parking lot: 0:32:43
Time: 2:14:50
Mileage: 15 Miles

A particularly long run, as I'm about to leave back to India.
Trying something new, going down on the other side of the hill, I once again get experiment with some really rough trail which borders an impressive chasm, to the point where I fear that the recent rains could cause some landslide that would take me down. I do make it to the bottom though, and from there the long hike up, this time all the way to the top of the Hollywood Hill (which is reached via a battered paved road).
I cross horse riders on the way, and see the Hollywood sign from over and behind, but unfortunately, my camera has gone Kherab along the way, leaving these things be with no witness.
Great run though...


That evening begins the long trek back home. Both eager and fearful to return to India, as if embarking on the final leg of my journey, I feel as if gravely intoxicated by Wagner's music, having had another intense bout of the Ring des Nibelungen. I am caught in the intricate web of the Wagnerian motives, ever present in my mind, whose tangled obsessive complexity will accompany me in the difficult days ahead.



-- Selbstbildnis, on the plane to Bangalore --








-- On the way to the Dinur school --
Top, left to right: Nagalu, Lata, Shazia -
Bottom: Nazia, Nagalu, Lata and Shazia --



To School, Dinur -- 03/31/11

ECC / Elim route - Dinur - Kadugodi: 0:41:36
Dinur to ITPL: 0:14:58
Time: 0:56:34
Mileage: 6.3 Miles
Wght: 155


(Link to complete photos on Flickr)


So this morning, happy that I'm slowly beating the jet lag, I set off around seven to reach by eight as promised. The weather is shockingly warm and heavy compared to what it was before my trip to the US. In Kadugodi is Kupamma, sitting in front of her tent, getting her children ready, she invites me to sit with her. I have chosen to conceal the Taviz inside my shirt to not invite questions, but the kids quickly noticing the necklace sure enough start pulling on it. Suresh waves at me from a distance, but no sign of Sampa, who apparently has gone to work (most likely picking plastic).
I'm extremely thirsty from the heat and quickly ask water from Kupamma, Tanni Kode.... She sends Nagalu over to the tent who brings back a large tin jug.
Kuttima's baby was born 12 days ago. Kupamma proudly shows me the baby, whose name will be fixed in three months (and whose picture I won't be allowed to take before then). It was born at Bowring hospital in Shivajinagar and looks healthy. His father Manni is also here, having gotten his hair cut, looking much more collected.
The children and I resume our habitual games, barbichette, hand games... We look at the Tamil newspaper, the picture of a huge manta ray that was caught in the ocean, and of course India's cricket victory last night, the immense crowds.

Ruksanna is also by her tent, getting her children ready for school. We wave at each other, purposefully keeping some distance. She eventually comes by, carrying little Sophia at her side, and I use the baby as a pretext to talk to her. She eventually sits not far from us, combing Nazia's hair, getting her ready for school.
In comes Ramaka who's still upset that I didn't buy her ration some time back before leaving. She uses Ruksanna as a translator. I address her directly in Hindi though, even though she hardly understands, pointing out that she wasn't even there the day we had agreed to go together to the shop. I ask for forgiveness though, but insist that I will no longer buy individual rations like in the past, preferring now to buy for the whole community on occasion.
Leaving Kupamma for a minute, I tentatively sit by Ruksanna, now just carrying little Sophia on her lap. "Ajeeb lag raha hai", I point out before moving back towards Kupamma, whose hoarse delivery I'm understanding less and less. Ruksanna sends one of the girl to get tea, which she brings back in a tin cup. Ruksanna pours into a plastic cup for me, then offers the remainder to Kupamma.



-- On the way to school, Shazia, Nagalu, Lata and Nazia.

The children are about ready to go to school so I offer to walk them over, as we love to do. But because Nazia is being difficult, looking rather sulky, Ruksanna tells me not to wait. Shazia follows me though, and we're soon joined by Nagalu and Lata. I ask Shazia if she'd rather wait for her sister, but she prefers to walk with me. Ruksanna, still carrying Sophia, has come out by the Tea stall to wave us goodbye. The three children and I set forth, drawing a lot of amused friendly stares as we start running up the street, then turn right onto the dirt trail that leads to Dinur. By now, Nazia has joined us as well. We stop by a temple to take pictures. I let Nazia handle the camera which cheers her up. We take spurts of running, I carrying Shazia's bagpack.
Approaching Dinur, the children stop by a roadside small shop. THey buy chips and biscuits with the few rupees that their mothers have given them. Nagalu buys one for me as well, hands it over to me, insisting, "Please!" (using the English word). I accept her amazing gift, tears coming to her eyes.



-- At the shop in Dinur, Lata and Nagalu --








-- Children of the Gopalan settlements, Nellurahalli



After the Cricket final -- 04/03/11
-- Beethoven, Late String Quartets --

Saturday:
Harohalli via the classic route through Imadhalli, Ajgondanhalli, Timandhalli
Time: 0:45:04
Mileage: 5 Miles
Sunday:
E. Route - Nellurahalli - Dunmore House area - back through town to Pattandur Agrahara - ECC route - back to Palm Meadows.
Time: 1:04:32
Mileage: 7.2 Miles
Wght: 152


(Link to complete photos on Flickr)

Actually, I have nothing to say about the Cricket World Cup final, as it has left me strangely untouched, not raising that much interest in the people I associate with.



-- On the way to Harohalli --

On Saturday, I run to Harohalli in the morning to meet the children for Vandana's birthday. We have arranged to pick them up around 10 to bring them to Jayanti's house. While I'm in Roopa's house, her father arrives from Dodbalapuram, tired and somewhat sick from the road. We talk nonetheless (in Hindi, which he speaks somewhat). He asks me about the Taviz that he has noticed around my neck, perhaps I imagine that they might object to this Moslem sign.
We pack Neethra and fourteen children in the Innova, take them to Jayanti's place in ITPL where we celebrate Vandana's birthday. I've thankfully been able to bring back plush toys from the US, which just so happens to be the exact right number.
But this little party highlights the changes that have taken me over. I am distracted from my old friends, unable to be in the moment, lost in thought, as if something had been broken. I leave promptly by 2, returning home to wait. Anjan sensing my distress and perhaps fearing that he's losing a friend, gives me a long quizzical look.

L'orage (Janvaron ki tarah)...



-- Vandanna's birthday at Jayanti's, left to right, Roopa, Lavannia and Monika --


Sunday morning, I decide to take a shorter run to Nellurahalli. The effect of my growing addiction to Gutkha is felt through the run, making my breathing heavy and difficult, generally weak. My spitting technique however, after a lot of practice, is exemplary! The heavy heat is subtly tempered outside by a slight breeze. I'm happy to be out after all. Looking for signs of last night's historic Cricket victory, I find things rather quiet, some rare firecracker debris littering the road in places.
I head for the Dunmore house area. On a Sunday the slumdwellers are all there, so I spend some time with Madevamma, Malikarjun and all. I ask about the Cricket, but noone seems to care that much (and how would they have watched it? No TV here obviously...)



-- Madevamma's parents --

I meet Madevamma's parents who have come to settle here from Gulbarga, her father resting under the shade of a canopy made of leaves. A woman carrying on her head a suitcase of items and cheap jewelry comes by (I've seen her here many times). I ask her to buy a Kanghi ("comb", I've just learned the word from Ruksanna), which is available in her ecclectic supplies. She asks me for 10 Rupees but the slumdwellers start arguing with her. Eventually, Madevamma buys it for me, among a collection of other things.
I am stopped through the area many times by my old friends.

Après une nuit sans sommeil, au petit matin...



-- Madevamma and the bengal seller --








-- Arpudam, Satish, and the TV --



TV in Kadugodi -- 04/07/11

W. Trail - Nellurahalli - Pattandur Agrahara - Prashanth layout - Dinur - Kadugodi: 0:50:49
Dinur to IPTL: 0:16:19
Time: 1:07:08
Pace: 8'30" / miles
Mileage: 7.9 Miles


(Link to complete photos on Flickr)

I wake up early, feeling again extraordinarily good physically.
I don't want to arrive in Kadugodi too early, so I make some small detours. It's another beautiful sunny day, and there is just enough freshness left in the morning air to temper the summer heat. I still reach Kadugodi extremely thirsty. Today, a lot of the slumdwellers are outside, and luckily, Sampa is finally here! It's so good to see her, her usual self, sharp, vivacious, inventive, funny... Apparently, I have just missed Deivani, Ubagarimary and the baby who have just left back to Patalamalevet. Velangani, whom I haven't seen in a long time, has been left behind. These days, she apparently splits her time between the two locations. Little Prashanth, in his mother's arms, is slowly getting reacquainted with me. Sampa gives me various updates. She tells me about Valli's baby so I act surprised at the news. I also learn that the other Sampa's baby, who was so horribly deformed, has finally passed away in Patalamalevet.
She's very interested in my new camera (which I'm bringing here for the first time), but says she liked the old one better. I would give it to her, but laboriously explain that she couldn't charge it since it's a foreign plug. I end up toying with the idea of leaving her the camera on occasion and charging it on my side.
A TV and VCR is displayed on a "Whitefield" chariot, in the middle of the slum. They did movie night last night, for 400 Rs. Ramaka plays with the remote controls, but of course there is no longer any electricity. Arpudam gets a stack of CDs, tucked in the tarps of her tent. Among the various Tamil films, they've strangely been watching American horror movies!



-- PushpaLata washing, Kadugodi --

I'm extremely thirsty, so Sampa offers me a pot of water. Ruksanna comes by to salute me. She has been getting her children ready for school, as usual combing them in front of her tent. She asks me if I would also apply oil to my hair? She proposes to get tea. Ramaka for some reason invites me to follow her. She hasn't gone to the usual tea stall, rather, Ramaka leads me all the way to the bus station where we find Ruksanna. I'm still carrying Sampa's tin of water, which for some reason is seen as very bizzare by the women. I give it back to Sampa as soon as we return. She laughs.
Ruksanna invites me to sit inside her house, but her husband, his body lying as if unconscious, is still sleeping in the tent, so I refuse to enter in spite of her surprising insistance. She first makes me sit on the doorstep, but even that feels uncomfortable, so I sit across next to Sampa. Behind us, Valli's old tent has finally been torn down.
Ramaka catches me lost in thought, with her hands and face she gestures, "what's the matter, why the sad face"? Main soch raha tha, I smile back, coming out of it. I then somehow spill some of my tea during an argument so Sampa makes good fun of me. She then has to leave to work, gathering plastic bahut dur, but we agree to meet on Sunday.

Ramaka asks again about her ration, complains that I've promised many times but never offered to her. I explain again that I will no longer provide individual rations, it's either everybody or noone from now on. I somehow particularly connect with her, in spite of virtually no common language, her marked face continues to fascinate me. I guess we're communicating mostly through strong facial expressions - and a little of Ruksanna's help.
I ask Ramaka about the Tatoo on her arms. Her husband's name, explains Ruksanna, translating for her. Guzar gaya, I comment sadly. Velangani also has some temporary letters tatooed on her arms, but they're English. She's all shy about it though, quickly hiding. I observe her beautiful necklace. They joke that it was for marriage, but of thankfully this is not true. It's actually gold imitation but does look wonderful on her.
Rosie is calling from a distance. I spend a short while at her house, and she too offers me tea. Her husband has gotten some cardiac problem for which she shows me the prescriptions, but I don't quite know what to do with that.



-- Sampa with Prashanth, Ruksanna with Shazia --

I return to Ruksanna. It's time for me to go, and I don't know if I'll have time to wait for the girls this time to walk them to school. Her husband has now disappeared from the tent, I haven't even seen him. Nazia is ready but Shazia, a bit sulky again today, is taking time. Ruskanna engages Nazia and I to leave first. On the way out, I'm stopped by Kupamma and Arpudam who point out that their daughter Kutimma's baby delivery has caused a lot of hardship, that they would really need their ration. I hold the same line than with Ramaka though. Ruksanna waves Nazia and I goodbye as we set off up the road.
The little girl is mumbling as we walk, as if singing or praying. She tells me she is praying for me to not get late at work. I'm praying "Iesu", she adds crossing her fingers. - Really, no Allah? I ask. - I pray Allah too...
We finally see Shazia coming behind us, but she's hobbling slowly, something bothering her in her right foot. Nazia is curious about my new camera, takes a few pictures along the way.
I have been carrying her backpack and examine its contents, a tin plate and bottle of water in one pocket, school books in the other. As we're approaching the road to Dinur from the trails, she stops by the house of her friend, calling her up. I leave them there, unclear if they'll eventually go to school or not, run fast towards IPTL as it's getting late. On the busy main road, to my surprise I pass Suresh and two other slumdwellers, walking on the side. A difficult day ahead -



-- Left to right: Prashanth, Sampa, Shazia, Ruksanna, Velangani --








-- Deivani, Ubagarimary and baby Vijay --



Baby Vijay in Patalamalevet, game of cards in Kadugodi -- 04/10/11

Saturday:
W. Trail - Dunmore House - Nellurahalli - Pattandur Agrahara - to ITPL main road: 0:34:00
Back via ECC route: 0:29:52
Time: 1:03:52
Mileage: 7.1 Miles

Sunday:
Main road - Hagadur - Imadhalli - Northern Trail - Chansandra - Patalama temple.
To Kadugodi, then back through Dinur - Elim / Ecc route.
Time: 1:42:51
Mileage: 11.5 Miles
Wght: 154


(Link to complete photos on Flickr)

In the Palm Meadows club House -

I still have a tenacious headache in the morning, in spite of a long night of sleep, and a general weakness in the upper body. Could it be from excessive use of Gutkha in the past few days?
I have promised to spend the morning in Kadugodi though, so I get ready nonetheless. I am loaded, needing to carry water for the excessive heat, pictures from a few weeks back, and three deck of cards that I've brought from France and US, showing pictures of the monuments (in addition to the usual camera, phone, towel!...) Two belts and all my pockets will do the trick.
I initially feel weak and sluggish, but wake up into the run. As usual, the humid heat, which inside the house is difficult to bear, is tempered outside by a pleasant morning breeze. I gradually regain interest in the landscape, happy to go through the beautiful fields.

As I'm approaching the Patalamma temple, I hear that I'm being called by a woman's voice, Uncle, Uncle.... A silhouette, seated on the side of the road, is gesturing to me, pointing her hand down, flexing her fingers, Indian style. From a distance, I think it might be Deivani, but it turns out to be Sampa (Patalamalevet Sampa, Manni's mother). She invites me to sit next to her sharing her mat, in the street. The poor woman, looking again emaciated, stinks of alcohol. She hardly speaks Hindi, but I understand what's she's trying to tell me nonetheless. Her baby boy, the one that was awfully deformed and whose state had seemed to precarious, finally died, two weeks ago. She calls on her husband Murgesh across the street. After joining us, he asks a woman holding a vending cart right behind us for an enveloppe, from which he produces some medical papers. Indeed, even though I don't understand half of it, these are medical documents for the poor child at the age of three months, measuring the abnormal size of his head, his state declared marasmic (severe malnutrition of an infant), and finally a recommendation for Neurosurgery, which of course never happened.
I have a few photos for Sampa, whose children are wandering about. This includes two a Saleem, little Sathia's husband, who apparently has left the area again.
Sampa complains pointing to her leg, Naï, raises her saree to reveal a nasty dog bite. The poor woman is clearly not well, and yet I cannot do anything for her. Our brief conversation seems to have touched her though, she lets me go satisfied.

A little further down the road, I pay a visit to Deivani and Ubagarimary. Right across the street, by the Patalamma temple, a wedding is being performed. We see the small procession for the newly-weds slowly walk down the road, preceded by musicians.
Deivani and her mother are sitting outside in front of their tiny shack, with naked baby Vijay, and friend Shamli. They toilet the baby with powder, carefully apply Tikka and black spots. The baby looks beautiful, fat and healthy. I have been wearing a new running shirt, mostly because the collar is high allowing me to conceal the taviz so as not to invite questions. Deivani admires the shirt, accha kapra, she says, then proceeds to roll up my sleeves further, tight, accha hai, she adds connaisseuse. She then points admiringly at my bracelet, in spite of my resistance takes it off to try it on. I protest vehemently, so she returns it quickly. Of course, she wouldn't be Deivani if she didn't start asking for stuff, but I adamantly and repeatedly refuse. She lets it go eventually. In the end, we feel happy to see each other after all this time.



-- Baby Vijay's toilet --

From there a short run to Kadugodi, which I approach with slight apprehension as often. What to expect today?

Sampa is in conversation with other slumdwellers. She unfurls a matte on the ground for me to sit with her, while the children crowd around us. We have so much to discuss, telling her about my US trip, her about Valli's new baby. Valli, in difficulty following the delivery, has asked that I offer her ration. How is that possible, I ask, she lives far now. Sampa says she'll carry it to her. I explain my plans of only bringing rations for everyone, no more of this individual business, which has created so much tension. Kaun Jhagra Karta Hai, she asks disingenuous.
Ruksanna's children come by, all very well dressed as if for some occasion. I have brought three souvenir deck of cards with images of Paris and San Jose (I didn't find San Francisco!). We all look at the images on the cards, while I explain the various sites, as best I can. Sampa is particularly intrigued by the glass pyramid of the Louvre. Is that a hotel, she asks?
Magic finger trick for Nazia. Sampa laughs. I do the trick a second time for me. Galat! exclaims Sampa laughing even harder as I've gotten it wrong. Galat, I exclaim in disbelief, Kaisa ho sakta?, as she continues to make fun of me. She herself tries some trick of her own, but can't quite get it to work.
She knows a little bit of a card game, somewhat like rummy which she calls by another name. She shows me how to build a set. Then, because the children have been playing with the cards, we laboriously reconstitute whole.
She has of course noticed the Taviz around my neck. A friend in Pattandur has given it to me, I lie, asks her if she herself isn't wearing one. She rummages through her many necklaces, produces a bigger version of mine, wrapped in cloth. From this, my health will be protected, she says repeating the familiar belief.



-- Sampa playing cards --


Ruskanna children have come back. Ruksanna boula rahi hai, says Sampa, Ruksanna is calling. We're about to distribute the photos from Kadugodi, so take them to her tent. From outside, I first only see her husband's feet, in the tent. We enter. Those are mostly the images we took with Nazia and Shazia while walking to school in Dinur. Nazia complains that I haven't printed the picture of the mandir that she took, with me standing. I promise that I'll look for it.
Knowing the answer, I ask the girls if they passed to the next class. They answer excitedly that they did.
Sampa needs to go to the shop, but promising that she'll be back quickly, asks me to wait for her. Jaldi vapas ao, Ruksanna and I ask her, but she won't come back in time. Ruksanna immediately serves me a small plate of rice, than one to her husband, who eats sitting in his corner in front of us, looking amused at the children playing with me. His face bears the traces of alcoholism, his legs emaciated. Little Sahid's legs are also in a dreadful state, purulent spots covered with white talc.

I start a Game of bataille Corse with Nazia and Shazia. They more or less pick up on the game, although Shazia keeps cheating, looking for the right card to be able to hit. So rahi hai kya?, I make fun of her as she forgets to hit the deck. Mukrham laughs from his corner. The game goes on, and Nazia, all excited, eventually wins.
Same card trick. This time from the side, others can see me lifting the card with my other finger. Ruksanna laughs this time.
She is cradling little Sophia, hung from the ceiling in a large cloth. The children have adopted me. She feeds me a bowl or rice, while the children keep bringing me water, as I'm extremely thirsty in this heat. Her husband eats also, sitting in his corner in front of us, watching the card game amused.
Mujhe jana hai, I declare as silence gets hold of us after the game, but Mukhram asks me to stay for tea. Kya bana rahi ho?, I ask Ruskanna whose busy with pots and pans. She hands me over a tin cup of Dahi which she has mixed with water and salt, then asks me to hand one over to the small kid sitting next to me. Before drinking, I make the children meet my cup, cheers!...

Sampa has still not yet returned, so I decide to leave. The little child who has been sitting with us asks for his own deck of cards (I do have one left, which I had intended for Kupamma's family). Kaun hai vo?, I ask; Ruxanna's explains that this is the son of the fat muslim woman who lives in the tent right across, Dhoumi, Nazia tells me. I repeat the name to which everyone bursts out laughing. Ruksanna later tells me that his is a derogatory name for fat people, like "fatso"!
I give the remaining deck of cards to the boy which creates the unavoidable commotion as everyone starts fighting for it. Usko khlena nahi ata, protests Nazia, but her mother disciplins her that his parents will show him.
She gets up. Main jaoun, tum bhi jao, she tells me from the door, then reassuring her children, Main vapas aoungi... She then disappears through the back side of the slum.
I hurry, but just then SaundraPandiyan appears, carrying little Vijay, followed by Deivani looking for her sister Sampa. I tell them she hasn't returned yet from the shop.

Before leaving, I take leave of Ruskanna's husband. Aapka naam Mukhram hai kya?, I ask. He confirms. Mera naam Philippe hai, I present myself. Main jaanta houn, he responds, before waving me goodbye.


Kal ho naa ho...


Western clothes
Ham bhag jaenge...
Au terme d'une journée d'angoisse...
Premières pluies...

Neend aa rahi hai...








-- Prithy with brother Suraj, Kadugodi --



Ration distribution in Kadugodi (11 Miles) -- 04/17/11

Vartur - Madhuranagar - Koturu - Harohalli: 0:51:21
Harohalli - Timandhalli - Ajgondanhalli - Chansandra - Patalamalevet - Kadugodi: 0:47:21
Time: 1:38:41
Mileage: 11 Miles
Wght: 155



-- Workers in the field, between Kotur and Harohalli --


(Link to complete photos on Flickr)

I set off early to Harohalli, as I have promised to reach Kadugodi around 10. As I leave Palm Meadows, I cross an important group of cyclists who like me heads towards Vartur. In a hurry, I pass without stopping by Shilpa's place in Madhuranagar, her house still under construction now has a second floor, but still all cinder blocks. Near Kotur, I can't help but stop for a group of women working in the fields, taking their pictures.
I haven't been to Harohalli in some time, abandonning my old friends so to speak. I've missed them.
During these summer vacations, most of the children have scattered in nearby villages. I am nevertheless received by Neethra and Tayamma, Roopa staying in Dodbalapuram with her father. It's difficult to communicate without the children, yet somehow we manage, with the help of one of Neetra's brother who knows squibbles of Hindi, and my scarce Telugu words. Neetra's marriage has been fixed for May 26 and 27, which of course I've promised to attend. She cannot let me go without feeding me Rice and Sambar, followed by the obligato Bida (Paan) from grandmother Tayamma. Among the kids only little Roopa and Vandana are present, to whom I give the remaining decks of cards I've brought from Europe. Around 9:30, I start running down the trail to Chansandra, propulsing large Paan red spittles along the way, an "art" that I now fully master.



-- Shirisha and Vandanna with baby cats - Grandmother Tayamma preparing "bida" (paan) --


No sight of Deivani near the Patalamma temple, but a little further down the road, I run into Sampa (from Patalamalevet), still living in that same miserable tent by the main road, in the back of a roadside shack. She calls two of her children from across the street, Manni and Chet. Manni asks for money for the barber as his hair has grown particularly long. They want to take photos (which I of course oblige), but Sampa sends them to the nearby water spout to wash their faces. We take a few photos in front of their miserable adobe. In this heat, my face is particulartly drenched in sweat, like the children, I wash with abundant water at the spigget. I promise Sampa to return later today with a ration of food.



-- Manni and Chet washing their faces, Patalamalevet --

I reach the Kadugodi community at about 10:15 as promised. For once neither Kupamma nor Arpurdam are there to "intercept" me, so I'm greeted by Sampa and Ruksanna. I sit with Sampa for a while, against the wall of one of the shacks. They too laugh at my abundant sweat. Sampa offers me a coconut to drink, then noticing the lump of Paan inside my mouth, encourages me to spit it out, Thouk do. I observe Sampa's beautiful earrings. Kisne tumko dia hai?. She laughs, admits it came from Vijay Kumar, Niche, she specifies, only the bottom ones. I refrain from questionning her further. He no longer comes here, she adds.
Prashanth and Gaiatree have taken hold of me. Sampa invites me to eat in RUksanna's house, but I'm still playing with the children. "Oyuuu", they explain laughing out loud, as the back of my shirt has become particularly dirty.
Kuttima, only fourteen as I've learned recently, goes to the tent to bring back her sleeping baby. She lets me photograph him, an unusual gesture before the baby's third month, perhaps because Kupamma isn't here to keep watch. Her husband (although have they married yet?) extends a friendly indian gesture towards me, grabbing my cheek than kissing his hand. He looks more together as a new father, his wild hair now neatly cut.



-- Kuttima and baby - Shabash and Zoia --


-- Inside Ruksanna's tent, left to right, Shabash, RUksanna, Shayed --

The children are all eating in Ruksanna's tent. She also serves me a large plate of rice - too large. I push back half of it, which offends her. To make matters worse, Sampa arrives, "Tumne nahi kaha, jhut bol rahe ho!", in spite of my protest that I'm not hungry. Adding further to it, Phika hai kya? asks little Nazia (is it bland?), namak chahie? I fear that I might offend Ruksanna, who, because of the damages of Gutkha, cannot eat spicy at all, and is often harshly criticized by her husband for the blandness of her food. As usual, she offers a portion to other children who also happen to be there.
Sitting at the door, Velangani asks me to take her picture, but I ask her to wait as I finish some of the food. She eventually leaves in anger with a brusque gesture.
Nazia takes the camera to take a few amazing pictures, in the tent and outside. Like last time, Nazia Shazia and I start a game of cards, but we're soon interrupted: Tumhare dost aa chuke hai, just before Milind pops his head in the tent.



-- Sophia sleeping inside the cradle, photo by Nazia --


-- Nazia, Zoia --

We organize the distribution swiftly, one tent one ration, helped by Sampa who guides us through the various dwellings. Things are easier than usual, perhaps due to the absence of some of the louder members, no argument happens this time, although we do decide to give Sampa an extra bag for her sister Valli (who just had her baby in town), and to Kuttima for Kupamma and Arpudam.
The children have crowded around Nikhil's Jeep. Velangani begs me for one "round" in the car. I tell her to ask Nikhil directly, but since he doesn't know Tamil she would prefer that I act as intermediary (not that I know much Tamil either!). I play with her, encouraging to speak up. We eventually fill the car with children and go for a quick drive around the bus station and back, me trying to hold everyone safe.



-- In Nikhil's jeep, front left to right, Velangani, Zoia, Nazia (driving) --

We have kept two rations for Deivani and Patalamalevet Sampa. I go collect my things from Ruksanna's tent, while she has left for work.
Back in Patalamalevet, Sampa and Murgesh both start crying, imploring. I resist their gestures of touching my feet, ask that they speak in Tamil to Ramesh. They produce the medical records of their poor dead child, explain to him that they would like help with the burial, since they have placed the body somewhere in a field in the Chansandra / Whitefield area. Not sure what they're asking for, whether they owe money for this or are they planning to do the burial over again. I somehow manage to joke with Sampa, bringing back a smile on her face. Manni walks us over towards the Patalamma temple, again asking for help for his haircut.
A little further down the street by the Patalamma temple, we meet Deivani, husband SaundraPandiyan, mother Ubagarimary and baby Vijay (looking as healthy as ever). We give them the last remaining ration packet. They tell me through Ramesh that they plan to leave the area to Tiruvanamalei (Tamil Nadu) next week, constantly harassed by the neighbours here (with whom they have kept fighting one day, loving another). But we're bothered by an old woman who insists on speaking to me in English, apparently deranged. She asks me for a new orange Saree, explains that she used to reside by the Sai Baba Ashram where videshi log used to help her. Ekdam pagal hai vo tells me Ubagarimary lifting her eyes.
In the car, Xavier tells me through Ramesh that the woman must have gone crazy as sometimes foreigners at the Ashram end up taking advantage of the poor, while the helpless desperately try to gain from the situation. As a warning, he earnestly concludes to me, aaj aapne bahut "risk" le lya in Kadugodi, fearing the constant disputes in the community.



-- Manni with brother Chet, Patalamalevet --


Mujhe kuch nahi hoga...


Jati: Patan, Shayed and Sheiks...


Ramzaan ke bare me...




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